Susie fixed me with an examining gaze for a moment, then looked at Susanne again.
"Uh, huh. I see. Well. Here ya go; two bucks in quarters and an Ice House coming up.” Turning to Sue, she asked, “What'll you have, Susanne?"
"Thank you, but I don't drink."
With a nod, Susie fished a bottle of Ice House beer out of the cooler, then asked, “Ed, why is it you only date teetotalers, but you bring them to bars? Not even a Coke for her?"
I handed her a five and said, “Not even a Coke. Sorry. About dating teetotalers Susie; I might make an exception in your case. You still married to what's-his-face?"
After a moment of slight startlement and a glance at Sue to see how she'd had taken my words, Susie sighed and said, “Yeah, still with him, Ed. There's just something about him, I guess. Can't seem to let go of him."
Trying to sound disappointed, I said, “Well, damn. But I guess there must be a reason for that, huh?"
Susanne's expression told me that our conversation had confused her slightly.
I patted her hand and smiled as Susie nodded and said, “Yeah, guess so. Sorry, Ed. Check back later, though."
Nodding as I sipped my beer, I said, “Will do."
With a grin at Susanne, Susie said, “Don't pay any attention to us; we've known each other for years. Nice to meet you, Susanne. I'll call you Sue for short."
With a sidelong look at me, she said, “Well, guess I'd better get back to work. Yell if you run dry, Ed."
Susie had a well-practiced flounce to her walk as she headed back down the bar. I noticed Susanne watching me watch Susie walk away. Susie paused by the cash register with a mischievous grin at me. Susanne saw that, too, but said nothing and turned to me with a look of mild consternation.
"I'm a little confused,” said Sue.
Chuckling, I said, “Thought you might be. Let's see if our reasons match. Why are you confused?"
"You appeared to be making a pass at Susie."
"That's the word for it. ‘Appeared'. It wasn't real."
"Then why did you do it?"
"Compliments come in many forms and Susie likes to flirt."
"I can see that."
Flipping a quarter, I said, “Let's get on a pool table."
With a raised eyebrow, Sue said, “As I told you, Ed, I won't miss."
"Yeah, I know. So I'll break and try real hard to run ‘em."
A guy sitting by one of the pool tables saw Sue and seemed transfixed by her. As we passed his table he moved his chair for a better view. Louis somebody, if I recalled correctly; thirtyish, used to ride a Harley.
Now he had a biker jacket and walked with some difficulty using an aluminum cane. I didn't know what happened to him; I'd met him maybe three times in the bar, but we'd never talked about much other than pool.
He grinned and nodded toward the tables as he asked, “Hey, Ed, is she any good?"
After considering whether his question might have dual meanings, I said, “Yeah, I think she might be. Lou, is it?"
"Yeah.” He draped himself in his chair to watch us play as I lined up a few stacks of quarters.
I got lucky in the first game. From the break to the eight, all the shots were either easy drops or makeable without too much toil and trouble. Sue fed the table three more quarters, racked the balls, and waited patiently as I slammed the cue ball into the point ball.
Some guy in his late twenties drifted off a barstool and stood watching my next three shots before he said, “I think you just got lucky last game."
Stifling a snort of laughter, I said, “You have no idea."
As I lined up on the fifteen, he asked, “What's that supposed to mean?"
The fifteen dropped.
I lined up for the nine and said, “It means that I know I got lucky. She's doing me a favor by playing me."
He eyed Sue, then asked, “What's that mean?” again.
The nine fell in the corner after a long walk along the rail.
"It means that I don't expect her to miss, so I'm making the best of things while I can."
Plainly skeptical and more than a little impressed with Sue's looks, the guy fished in his pocket for some quarters. He slapped them down on the table and stepped back.
"I'm up next,” he said.
"There are two other tables,” I said, looking for my next shot.
The ten was hidden behind the four. Every other possible shot sucked, too. I prepared to try a jump shot on the ten.
"Yeah, but I wanna play on this table,” said the guy. “You sure jump shots are legal?"
"In my games they are."
I missed and the cue ball hit the rail and rolled back to nudge the eight into the side pocket. The guy snickered and stepped up to the table.
"Wait one,” I said. Turning to Sue, I asked, “Do you want to play this guy?"
She shrugged slightly, indicating that it didn't matter. I stepped away from the coin box.
Turning to Sue, the guy asked, “How ‘bout five a game?"
Sue gave him a flat gaze and said, “I don't have any money."
"He does,” said the guy, deliberately not taking her hint. “Seems to me he shouldn't mind backin’ you, since he thinks you're so hot."
Giving him an absolutely even gaze, I said, “Well, I've never really seen her shoot, but she told me that she won't miss, and I believe her."
His gaze narrowed sharply. He plainly didn't believe a word of it. Oh, well.
He asked, “You gonna back her or not, sport?"
Shrugging, I said, “Yeah, I guess so. Five, right?"
"Unless you got the balls to go ten."
Shrugging again, I said, “Well, since you felt you just had to put it that way ... Don't you worry about my balls, guy; worry about her kicking your ass on the table. Ten, twenty, fifty ... I don't give a damn. You pick a number."
Susie came around the bar and padded quickly over to us.
"Keep it down,” she said, “Allen's here."
Allen came out of the back with four cases of beer in his arms and set them down effortlessly behind the bar, then came to see what was going on.
He stood well over six feet and seemed to have muscles on his muscles and he grinningly stopped not far behind Susie, patiently waiting for her cue to do just any little thing at all for her.
"Don't let us see you betting on these tables,” said Susie, “'Cause if we can see it, so can anybody else who might be in here. You both got that?"
I nodded as the other guy glanced at Allen and said, “Uh, yeah."
"And don't either of you get ugly if you lose,” she added. “Allen can get uglier. I'll guarantee that."
As Susie and Allen went back to the bar, I said, “Maybe we'd better forget the bet. I like this place."
The guy turned to face me and grinned hard as he said, “You know, I kinda figured you'd say that, sport."
He flicked the corner of a fifty in his shirt pocket and said, “Yeah, I just kind of knew you'd say something like that."
Glancing at Sue, I asked, “Hey, lady, are you sure you won't miss?"
She smilingly nodded. Louis got up and moved to a closer table as I nodded to the challenger.
"Fifty it is, then. Sport."
Sue broke the rack with enough backspin to return the cue to the rail, made the two on the break, and then systematically popped in all the solids and the eight in just under a minute.
I ambled over near the guy with my hand out. He wordlessly passed me his fifty as he stared at Sue. She smiled and leaned on the table very prettily.
"Again,” he croaked. “Nobody's that good. She just got lucky as hell."
"You just saw her be that good,” I said. “Sometimes things just are as they are, y'know."
He shook his head. “Again. The same. Fifty."
I glanced at the bar. Yup. Susie was paying attention.
"We're being watched,” I said. “Take it easy."
He turned on me and growled, “We go again or we go the f
uck outside right now."
When they say things like that you can pretty well bet they'll be outside later in any case. You may as well soak them while you can, then deal with their unhappiness in the parking lot when the time comes.
Nodding, I looked at Sue and said, “He seems to have doubts, so you'll have to run ‘em again, ma'am."
With a little salute, she said, “Yes, sir, sir."
He racked the balls and Sue ran the table again in about the same amount of time. The guy was raging quietly as he passed me another fifty.
Putting more quarters in the table, the guy jammed the coin bar hard, then rather noisily began racking the balls for another game.
"Maybe I ought to play you this time,” I said. “You'd have a better chance."
"You just shut the fuck up and don't disappear with that money,” he said. “We're goin’ for a hundred this time. I'm gettin’ my money back."
"Highly doubtful,” I said as he shoved the rack to the dot.
Rounding the table quickly, he stopped within a foot of me and glaringly growled, “I told you to shut the fuck up!"
I regarded him quietly for a moment, then said, “That kind of Wrestlemania bullshit doesn't work on me, so either play pool or get lost. You wanted another game. You've got it."
He glowered at me for another moment before he reached for his stick and tried to lift the rack from the balls with one hand. That didn't work; he was shaking with rage and the corner balls drifted away slightly.
Swearing, he put his stick down, straightened the balls, lifted the rack with both hands, then picked up his stick and shoved the rack into the end of the table.
As he backed away from the table he muttered, “Bust ‘em up, bitch."
I didn't care for that comment. Apparently neither did Sue. She quickly ran the stripes and the eight, and then without comment ran the rest of the balls and stepped away from the empty table.
Lou let out a low whistle and slowly clapped his hands a few times as he grinned at Sue and softly said, “Jesus H. Christ..!"
Sue's opponent was livid with rage. He was apparently somewhat stunned, as well, since he made not the slightest move for several moments as he glared at Susanne.
Very obviously glancing at the bar, I moved to stand near him and softly said, “The bet was a hundred."
As if disbelieving his ears, he turned his head to look at me for several seconds before he very deliberately said, “Fuck you. And your hustler girlfriend, too."
"You were told she wouldn't miss. Cough it up."
Push and shove time. I glanced around at a small sound and saw Louis approaching, his cane in one hand and a cue stick in the other.
He ambled past us to put the stick in one of the wall holders, and as he did so, he very quietly said, “He said she wouldn't miss, Carl. You pushed for a game anyway. The bet was a hundred."
"You might wanna stay the fuck out of this,” said Carl.
Lou shook his head. “Nope. Don't think so."
"How'd you like to meet me outside, too?"
"Don't talk stupid, Carl. Sooner or later a few guys would show up to talk to you about it, and you know it. Nobody fucks with one of us."
"Who's us?” I asked.
"Just some friends. Carl knows who we are, right, Carl?"
Carl glared at Lou's back as Lou ambled back to his table, then pulled a hundred from his pocket and wadded it tightly before tossing it on the floor between us. He then grabbed his beer and headed for the bar. I shrugged, picked up the hundred, uncrunched it, and stuffed it in a shirt pocket.
Lou waved his beer at the other chairs around his table. Sue and I joined him. Lou's eyebrows went up when I held Sue's chair to seat her.
"I'd treat her like gold, too,” he said, “Any woman who can shoot like that has to be kind of special."
"Yeah, she's very special,” I said. “Sue, this is Louis."
"Lou,” said Lou. “Sue, you could make some real money in the tournaments."
"It wouldn't be fair,” said Sue, with a shake of her head.
"Why not?"
With a small smile, she said, “I never miss."
At Lou's grinningly skeptical look, I said, “You saw her shoot, Lou. She's not kidding."
He snorted a laugh and grinned at Sue as he said, “Well, there's people would pay to see that, too. Some guys'd pay just to get a look at her, I think."
Glancing at the bar, he asked, “You want me to walk you out of here? I don't think Carl's gonna lose gracefully."
I shrugged. “You can be a witness. If I don't deal with Carl tonight, he'll just be a problem some other night."
Lou nodded. “Yeah, he looks like a hard learner. That's his fourth beer.” He smiled and added, “Not counting the one he took with him. Working up to something, you think?"
There was a thump from the other room and I caught a glimpse of Carl heading for the door as Susie reached to keep his barstool from falling over. He glared at us on his way out.
Yeah, he'd be out there, no doubt about it.
I looked at Sue. “No help, okay? I need the practice."
Sue grinningly chirped, “Oh, yes, sir. No help. Got it, sir."
Lou gave her an odd look, plainly wondering what sort of help she might offer. His eyes searched her and saw nothing suitable as a weapon.
When his gaze again met mine, I said, “She's had some training."
Her unruffled demeanor and my quiet confidence in her served to elevate Lou's opinion of her even more.
He sat a little straighter and sipped his beer, then said, “Well, just say when."
"Now's good,” I said, putting my bottle down and standing up.
"Let's do it, then,” said Lou, also getting to his feet.
Susie saw us readying to leave and came to join us.
"I'm walking you to your car,” she said.
I asked, “If you're expecting trouble, wouldn't Allen be a better choice?"
Pulling a metal tube from her skirt's only pocket, she said, “Not necessarily."
The tube was a Japanese police baton known as an asp. Two sections of heavy springs with a steel button on the end that could bust a kneecap would shoot out of the handle with a flick of her wrist.
Sure enough, Carl was waiting, leaning on a white car. He saw Lou and Susie and smarted off about my needing bodyguards.
I stopped everybody and stepped forward to within a few paces of Carl, then said, “They're just here as witnesses."
Without warning or discussion, Carl dropped his beer bottle and stepped forward quickly to try to land a punch on my face. I stepped back enough to let his fist go by. He swore, swung again, and missed again.
When he threw his next punch, I ducked to the right and stepped in close. Grabbing his belt, I lifted him slightly off the ground, shoved his face sideways with my left hand, and let go of him. He dropped three feet to the ground and landed hard on his right elbow and shoulder.
Carl sat up, then got up. This time he lunged at me, trying to get his arms around me to drag me down. I backed up as he came forward and my knee found his nose, then his forehead. The second impact rang his bells briefly.
Almost diving forward, he swung at my crotch, but I moved aside, then slammed the heel of my hand into his nose from above. Crunch. He was bleeding profusely as he backed away.
Pulling a handkerchief, Carl dabbed at his nose, saw his own blood, and seemed to go nuts. He came at me screaming something I couldn't understand.
Ducking two of the nearer punches was enough for me. I hit his gut, backhanded his throat with my fingertips, and then grabbed his left arm as I kicked his legs out from under him.
He again landed hard on his right side, chokingly groaning as the shock ran up his arm from his elbow impacting the parking lot. When he tried to move he wound up grabbing his right hip in agonized shock and gaspingly swearing through clenched teeth.
"Are we through yet?” I asked.
Carl didn't answer. I decided to see if we wer
e through, extending my left hand to see if he'd take some help getting up. He grabbed my hand and tried to pull me into a punch.
I ducked the little bit that was necessary and captured his right arm over my left arm, then stepped to my left and knelt without letting go of him. He toppled to his right again and his elbow wound up across my knee.
Putting a little pressure on his forearm, I said, “I can break it, Carl. Then we'd be finished for sure."
"N-no!” he hissed, shaking his head tightly. “No!"
"I'll let you go and we'll walk, right? No more shit?"
He nodded. “Yes."
I nodded, too. “Good. I think you bet money you couldn't afford to lose, right Carl?"
Carl nodded again as tersely as before. “Yeah."
Standing up, I pulled the bill he'd thrown on the floor out of my pocket and tossed it on the ground in front of him. His eyes fixed on it, then he looked up at me as if expecting a trap.
"Well, Carl, here's some of it back to you the same way you gave it to me. Go ahead and pick it up. I told you she didn't miss. I didn't lie to you then and I'm not lying to you now when I tell you that if I have to do this again I'm really going to hurt you. Expensive, hospital-type hurt."
Stepping away from Carl, I shook hands with Susie and Lou, thanked them, and said goodnight to them. Untrusting Susie kept her eyes on Carl almost the whole time.
Lou belatedly said, “Uh, yeah, goodnight,” as Sue and I started walking to the car.
As I opened the car door for Sue, I asked, “Any questions, milady?"
She raised an eyebrow at me and asked, “About what?"
"Anything, I guess. Steph always seemed to have questions after something ugly happened. Just figured you would, too."
Sue shook her head and got in. “No, Ed. No questions."
I watched her skirt ride high as she seated herself and reminded myself that it was just a field illusion. But a damned good one. Every little detail covered ... Or uncovered, as were.
When she was settled I closed the door and went around to get in with a glance toward the bar. I couldn't see anything past a van. Oh, well. I got in the car to find Sue looking at me thoughtfully.
"Maybe just one question,” she said. “How much of what happened this evening was directly or indirectly due to your altercations with Selena and her mother?"
Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 50